


Wretched

by Loudst



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: And everyone suffers for it, Based on the Anime's version of events, Character Death, Gen, Illustrated, In which Armin is a bastard and loses sight of his morality, Manga Spoilers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Spoilers, Wheezes nervously I promised my S.O. I would post this so HERE I GO..., possible ooc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 04:49:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loudst/pseuds/Loudst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Armin was not someone willing to sacrifice his body to his cause—as much as he preached about it, the only thing Armin ever threw aside for the sake of humanity was his morals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wretched

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is by no means perfect (especially the beginning, which is just terrible) and I am by no means an expert on these characters. This is my first SNK fic.  
> I was just very distraught about the anime's divergence from the plot of the manga in the last few episodes. They ripped Armin's humanity out of him very abruptly, and it seemed like the logical progression of things would be.... quite disastrous... from there. 
> 
> Also a warning: This is not beta'd.  
> Also, the art used is my own.

 

In the years following the events in Stohess, many events transpired, many lives were lost and many truths discovered. Armin was there for all of it, watching with calculating eyes as his comrades and associates laid down their lives for humanity.

Levi had died after the events of Utgard, during a fight with the Armored Titan in the areas outlying the Forest of Giant Trees. He was sure his body could withstand the stress… he was wrong. Nevertheless, his death proved instrumental in the defeat and capture of the Armored Titan. And, while tragic, it was entirely necessary. Erwin resigned within the week, having sustained injuries both mental and physical from which he could not recover, leaving Hanji in charge.

Hanji was a good leader, but she was always pushing her boundaries. With Armin at her side, Humanity learned a lot about the titans and shifters. But it came at the cost of her life.

 

Eren Jaeger, humanity’s hope, had lost his mind the day Levi died—riddled with rage and guilt and an inflated sense of duty that could never be sated—and ever since, he was never at rest. Mikasa Ackerman, humanity’s strongest, was the thin tether binding him to reality. The two of them led the Special Operations squad together. Armin often wondered if Mikasa ever got tired of living for other people, but he never said anything; content to let her presence be the sedative Eren needed—because he wasn’t sure he could be there for him the same way anymore.

Armin was busy most of the time, being Commander came with a lot of responsibility and paperwork—and ass-kissing. Probably why Jean turned the role down—he worked better in a more active role, anyway. As it was, Armin was the strategist and Jean was the asshole that poked holes in his plan. It was a very symbiotic relationship from the outside, but tensions were high between them.

At first they had worked well together. Jean was a stable friend and comrade, always ready to hear Armin out, always ready to tell him if he was pushing people too hard. He was rational and he made sense, even when he disagreed. And, at first, Armin liked that.

 

\---

 

Everything had gone wrong too quickly. They had stopped in an abandoned city block to rest their horses and survey the area (your tax dollars at work) when a loud crash drew Armin’s attention. An aberrant had rushed his squad, taking out 2 soldiers easily and critically injuring a third. Armin’s combat skills had improved, but he was still piss poor compared to most in the Scouting Legion. He could handle a titan on his own, but it would take a considerable amount of time and effort.

He fled to the rooftops quickly, but this area was not ideal for 3DM. He was level with the monster’s chest at his elevation. It swung at him just sluggishly enough to only graze his ankle with a stubby, bloated looking pinky finger. It took Armin off balance, but he managed to get a safer distance away. He needed time to think… he looked around for the remainder of his squad, finding nothing. He was alone.

 

\---

  

“He’s fucked up, Armin,” Jean groaned, forehead resting against the cold surface of the doorframe, “And you want to push him more. You really think that’s wise?”

“I don’t think it’s wise, but we have to. We have a deadline.”

“I don’t care about the fucking deadline, Arlert. Eren can barely remember his name,” A growl, feral almost in its contempt, “Doesn’t even know yours.”

Armin placed his papers back on his desk without a word, side-eyeing Jean. Feigning injury. A normal person would see sadness there, but all Jean saw was annoyance. A normal person would sympathize, all Jean could do was scrutinize. The calculated actions of Armin Arlert were no longer formidable or subtle or convincing to Jean Kirschtein; just an everyday occurrence. Jean knew Armin top to bottom… every tell, every nervous habit, every forced affect. Jean knew Armin, and he knew that none of this was reaching him.

“I’ll tell Mikasa to have him ready by tomorrow morning,” Jean conceded, saluting the blonde weakly before turning to leave, stopping mid-stride to add, “I hope it’s worth it.”

Armin stayed with his back to the door as the silence of solitude crept in, distilling the air and reaching a feverish frequency in Armin’s ears.

 

“Of course it is.” He said to himself.

 

 ---

 

With a swipe of its hand, the 13 meter class knocked Armin off his perch. He recovered quickly, dodging clumsy hands with skillful movements. He wasn’t the best at fighting, but he was fast. Jean had taught him a lot in their years as partners. He prioritized speed and movement, he prioritized survival. He moved quickly and let his momentum work to his advantage, conserving fuel. He moved only when he had to.

It wasn’t sustainable. Not without someone to strike a killing blow… where was the rest of his team? He rounded a corner on foot, skidding to a stop at the sight before him.

Another two titans… one 5 meters, one 7. One held a soldier carefully, gingerly, almost as if to inspect her. Her frightened eyes met with Armin’s—she was a new recruit who’d ranked 4th in her class as a trainee. She should have been able to handle this. Armin’s vision blurred as she screamed for him to do something. While there’s still time, she urged. That would be foolish though, wouldn’t it? Where was Jean…?

 

\---

 

He held the ice cube with exposed fingers, ignoring the cold as he ran it over swollen flesh, “What did you say to him?” He asked. Despite their closeness, he spoke as if to a stranger. Jean shrugged under his touch, taking the ice in his own hand to grant the two some distance. Armin gave him a derisive look, “He wouldn’t hit you for nothing.”

“Maybe not a year ago,” Jean murmured, rubbing circles into the sensitive wound with the quickly melting cube. Water ran down the side of his face, hanging on his eyelashes in a way that reminded Armin of times gone by, when Jean still cried…

Jean spoke in code almost exclusively anymore. Never fully saying what he meant, but just enough that Armin could infer the rest. It was passive aggressive and it didn’t suit Jean at all… But Armin never said anything. If Jean never said what he meant, Armin was free to ignore it if it suited him. And it often suited him.

 

\---

 

“Commander! What the fuck are you doing?!” A familiar voice barked from above him, swooping down and grabbing him, carrying him to the adjacent rooftop, “The ground is a disease, you know that.”

“Jean.” Armin murmured, gaze cast over the street to the fallen soldier. He’d watched her meet her end. He’d heard her screaming—screaming for him to save her. And he had done nothing.

It would have been impractical. It could have killed him. She was green, a newbie… logically speaking, she had no chance of coming out of this alive. If he had helped her here, it’d have lowered their overall survivability. They both would have died eventually. There’s still an aberrant looking for him, and these two titans were no joke either. Had Jean showed up sooner… maybe. But no he… he did the right thing. It was worth it—

“Armin!” Jean’s voice broke through the deluge of thoughts coursing through Armin’s mind, “Hey! We have to get moving, there’s an aberrant just over there… like 13 meters.”

“I know. I think my gear is broken.” Armin breathed, still going over the girl’s death. Cornelia Falk, 4th in her class, 3DM skills unmatched, bit of a coward… works best in small groups. Died for humanity, and it was worth it.

It was worth it.

 

\---

 

“You’ll take care of him for us,” Eren Jaeger murmured quietly, staring at balled fists. Mikasa stared at her feet, shooting a single glance towards Jean, as if to apologize. He shrugged her off, _not your fault._

“Eren—” “You will though! You’ll keep him safe, right!?”

“Eren, he can take care of himself,” Jean insisted, a tired look on his face. He’d had this conversation before. It always ended the same.

Eren grabbed Jean by his jacket, pulling him close with gritted teeth, “I don’t care about that. Just promise you’ll protect him.” He hissed. Jean could feel the heat emanating from his body, his anger literally bringing his blood to a boil.

“I’m sorry. I can’t give my life away twice,” Jean said quietly, “Especially not for a bastard like Armin.”

 

He anticipated Eren taking a swing at him. Instead of avoiding it or fighting back, he let it make contact. The pain was intense and the world slipped from under his feet for a second, his back slammed against the wall and Eren was all too ready to take advantage of that.

Pinned to the wall and bleeding from his brow, he looked down at Eren with eyes that spoke not of malice, but pity, “Better?” he asked.

After a few seconds, Eren deflated; releasing Jean and backing away with a quiet, hollow complaint.

 

\---

 

A week after the failed expedition, Armin was still answering to his superiors. Still counting bodies.

Eren’s control over his titan form had slipped and it took most of their man-power to rein him in. Mikasa and Jean had to fight to cut him out; and when they finally freed him, he was laughing. More and more often it seemed like Eren’s goal was simply to destroy. None of his initial determination remained. When he shifted, it was to be free. When he fought, it was to kill.

The entire Scouting Legion was on edge, they thought of Eren Jaeger as a monster. And Armin couldn’t blame them for that. He pinched the bridge of his nose, willing away a nasty headache and forcing the face of Cornelia Falk to fade from his memory.

Jean sat a cup of tea next to him, leaning against his desk and saying nothing. The silence was almost pointed.

 

 

  
 

 

“Did you need something, Jean?” Armin asked.

“No. Just thinking.”

 

He gave Jean a wary look, taking the drink, sipping it carefully and waiting for him to tell the truth. It didn’t take long, at the end of the day Jean was still Jean. “I keep remembering that day,” he finally said, “How quickly this all happened…”

Armin sighed, sitting the cup down as Jean continued. He’d heard this all before… How this happened too quickly and none of them were prepared for the responsibility, like it was just a game of catch-up from the very start… but this time Jean said something new.

“Do you think Bertholdt is going to come back?”

Armin froze; his hands trembled as he reached for some papers to busy himself with, “Don’t ask me that.” He ordered. Jean rolled his eyes as he pushed off the desk, standing up and stretching his arms in a calculated display of nonchalance, “Can’t avoid it forever.”

 

\---

 

It was Armin’s fault Levi died. When he’d arrived on the scene, Armin had known he was still recovering from his injuries. Cutting Eren from his titan form earlier had done naught but exacerbate the condition—and now here he was. Armin knew, but he didn’t care. He told Levi where to aim, told him just what to do. And he did it.

It was Armin who’d told Eren once before that it was his own fault for hesitating. It was Armin who placed those thoughts in his head. And so, when Levi died, it was easy for Eren to blame himself. It was easy for him to lose himself to his guilt, his rage. To realize his humanity wasn’t worth the death of his comrades.

It was Armin whose ingenious lie pushed Bertholdt over the edge; providing enough of a distraction to free Eren. Providing humanity with the chance to exact its revenge on the titan who broke their gate and killed their strongest soldier. Armin who urged Eren to use his titan powers—Armin who told Eren that no one else needed to die if he could just get this done now.

And because of that, it was Armin who was responsible for the defeat and capture of the Armored Titan.

 

In the end, Bertholdt managed to escape. Reiner had thrown him in the direction of the Forest. Bert was an expert with 3DM and it would have been impossible to apprehend him, so no one even considered it. Still… Bertholdt’s final words stuck with Armin.

 “I’ll exterminate all of you.”

It had sounded so full of conviction, so raw, emotional, personal… Terrifying that the most genuine thing Armin had ever heard from Bertholdt was a promise that he would personally murder everyone he knew and cared about.

 

\---

 

News of the breach got to the headquarters with little time to spare. The Stationary Guard had been wiped out, leaving one wide-eyed messenger in their wake to relay the message. The Colossal Titan had returned.

It was the news Armin had been dreading for 5 years.

 

When they arrived at the scene of the battle, the Colossal Titan was nowhere to be found. While many soldiers expressed relief upon this realization, Armin knew better. His eyes darted from rooftops to sidewalks, in frantic search of the culprit he knew would be seeking him out.

Jean stayed as close to Armin as he could while still relaying orders to the squads in his command. The breach in the wall had drawn in many titans, a moments rest and they would be overwhelmed. “Commander,” He called, “Could you at least try to focus?”

“What’s wrong?” Another voice called, cold and distant. Mikasa… he turned to find her standing at his back, Eren by her side, “Are you scared, Armin?” She never did stop asking him things like that.

“I’m fine.” He replied, eyes still scanning, “Bertholdt is here. If we don’t find him soon, he could blend in with our ranks. We may know his face… but no one else does.”

Mikasa nodded in agreement, zipping away to begin her hunt for the ex-soldier. Eren followed after her wordlessly, shooting Jean a serious look as he passed. Jean only nodded tiredly, and with a sigh, turned to Armin, “Should I go as well?”

“Stay here. You’re the only one who can match him in movement. If anyone finds him…” He stopped, turning to look Jean in the eye, “If he finds me…”

 

\---

 

Berholdt Fubar was once a timid man; once very much afraid of doing anything on his own. But circumstances hadn’t allowed him a comfortable life, not once. So when his comrades were taken from him, he did what he had to.

In 5 years of solitude he had become a stronger person, a colder person. He had become a warrior, the likes of which Annie might even be proud of. He was strategic, professional… he wasn’t a genius like Armin—but there was one thing he had on Armin that would work to his advantage. Fear. If there was one thing that could break Armin Arlert’s concentration, it was definitely fear.

He’d looked the boy in the eye that day and told him he would kill him. He had intended to do it right then and there, but circumstances prevented it. He was stupid then, he had let Armin use him. He still wasn’t sure if Armin’s words were truthful, but the boy had become commander in the 5 years since—and that had to mean it was true by now. So there would be no mercy for him.

 

The plan was simple. Breach the wall, the titans will flood the city quickly enough. Once the panic sets in, blend with the crowd and infiltrate the armory. Once fully supplied, destroy the armory. With the armory demolished, it will be a matter of hours before the Stationary Guard is wiped out. The Survey Corps will already be en route—likely informed before the armory is destroyed. Another several hours and they’ll be reduced to only the best and the brightest. Eren, Mikasa, Jean… Armin. There were a few others to account for, but Bertholdt could care less. So long as he cut the head off the beast, the rest of the pieces would fall into place.

 

\---

 

Armin was distracted, frantic, afraid. Jean cursed under his breath as his commander faltered under pressure, “Armin. We don’t have time for this,” He started, grabbing him by the shoulders, “The armory has been destroyed, most outlying supply divisions as well. Half of our people… Armin half of our people are already dead.”

Armin chuckled; _you could say this one’s fubar’d._

There was a loud crash from several blocks over. It seemed as though the Rogue Titan had, predictably, gone rogue. Jean snarled at the inconvenience as he turned to leave, he was under very strict orders to assist in neutralizing Eren whenever the need arose, “I have to go h—” “No!”

Armin’s voice was stern and pathetic all at once and Jean’s eyes narrowed at the sound, “No?” he repeated, turning to his commander yet again. This time he was angry, this time he wasn’t having any of Arlert’s shit, “How about fuck you, Armin!? I’m going to make myself useful or die trying! I’m not going to watch the world burn with you.”

Jean left without another word or second to spare, and Armin was left alone and defenseless. Had it been any other situation, any other enemy… maybe he could have held his own. But no, not this time. He doubted himself. Even if he could fight, maybe even win—he was already imagining his own death. He knew it’d be the end of him if he tried.

He thought back to a time long past, when Jean had told him that the only thing he ever thought about was how he was going to die, how his friends were going to die. Armin recalled how it was all Jean could ever think about… and how it was the one thing he never could.

_If I think about it, I probably won’t be able to carry on…_

He dropped off the building, maneuvering to a neighboring rooftop to look for the rest of his troops.

 

\---

 

Dealing with Eren was never easy; dealing with Mikasa was even worse. The whole reason his presence was necessary was because Ackerman literally could not bring herself to cut him out. For all she could do, for being humanity’s strongest soldier, she couldn’t do this one thing. It was understandable—Mikasa didn’t cut to spare life, or sanity, or anything of the sort.

In the ensuing struggle to force Jaeger into an acceptable state of consciousness, Jean broke two blades and dislocated his shoulder. By the time Eren came to his senses Jean was already saying his goodbyes, Misaka having forced the joint of his shoulder back into working order.

Staying with Mikasa and Eren would have been safer, given his condition… but if his injuries were going to impede him, they were going to impede him somewhere where Eren couldn’t see.

 

He struggled to move without pain. When the entire body is instrumental to one’s survival, even a slight injury can be excruciating. He bit his lip, scanning the area for his commander. Armin couldn’t—shouldn’t have wandered far. He was not the kind of leader that thrived on the battlefield.

Jean cursed under his breath and kept moving, kept searching; a nagging anxiety settled in as fears and doubts resurfaced in his mind. He always wondered if it was the right decision to let Armin assume the role of Commander after Hanji’s death. Armin was Hanji’s favourite, but everyone had agreed Jean was better for the position. He and Armin had settled for a partnership of sorts, seeing as they always worked together anyway. Armin would handle the business end of things and they would collaborate on tactics. Jean would have command over most squads, just as Hanji had when they first joined the Scouting Legion. It worked nicely on paper. It even worked nicely in reality for a while—

Jean was pulled out of his head abruptly by the sight of two figures on a far off rooftop, both of which he was familiar with.

 

\---

 

Bertholdt had observed the Scouting Legion several times in the past few years. He had been surprised when Armin took the position of commander over Jean. Armin was not someone willing to sacrifice his body to his cause—as much as he preached about it, the only thing Armin ever threw aside for the sake of humanity was his morals. Everything about Armin sickened Bertholdt. There was a time when he considered the diminutive boy his friend; maybe that’s why seeing him change disgusted him so much.

He’d been there on their last expedition; he witnessed the death of Cornelia Falk. He knew Armin had hit the bottom, and there was no coming back.

Had he been a little less in control of himself, he’d have killed the commander right there… but he was smarter than that. He had comrades to rescue. He had Annie, and Reiner… and Eren, maybe. Though, Eren seemed less and less important recently. Eren fought like an animal, he had nothing of his humanity left… whatever promise he showed before had all but fizzled out into a dull listless rage. That was Armin’s fault, too. Armin was always reinforcing this idea that the only way to win is to give in to rage. To become a monster for Humanity.

The curse of genius is that people will listen to even your most foolish ideas.

 

Incapacitating Armin was as easy as cutting his lines mid-air; it had to be both though. If it was only one he’d recover, and Bert wouldn’t have an opening to pin him down. It had to be two. But even so, it was easy.

Bert had always been touted as Extremely Talented, had always been acknowledged as promising if not for his gutlessness. Well, he wasn’t so gutless anymore. And he was more talented than anyone had ever given him credit for.

Arlert slammed into the wall with a calamitous crash that left him dazed and gasping for air as Bert closed the space between them; hooks imbedding in the wall to either side of the blonde’s head. To his credit, he thought fast for a partially unconscious person—turning his blade so that once Bert was close enough, he could imbed the edge in his side. If Bertholdt were human he’d have cared, if Bertholdt were human that would have been the correct thing to do. But he wasn’t. He stepped into the blade, forcing it further in as he advanced on the commander.

Armin was horrified.

“This,” Bertholdt started, grabbing Armin’s hand with crushing force and pulling it towards him, blade cutting deeper as Bert refused to even flinch at the pain, “ _This_ is what it means to sacrifice yourself for your objectives.”

Armin’s eyes widened at the realization that Bertholdt knew much more than he should have. That he must have been watching him. Bert stared hard at him, taking in the shock and fear—all of which was useless now.

“I told you I would exterminate you, Commander Arlert.” He said lowly, almost condescendingly.

And just as he raised his blade to the boy’s neck—poised to either take his life or extract the information he wanted—something crashed into him, knocking his blade from his hand and messily tearing out one in his side. He hissed in pain and rage as his chance to interrogate the commander slipped away from him. He shot upright, grabbing the attacker by the neck and running them through, the blade embedded in the stone beneath them before he even took notice of his victim’s identity.

 

\---

 

Bertholdt could barely hear Armin’s screaming over the roaring static flooding his senses. His breath came out in short bursts; hand—still gripping the handle of the blade—shaking as he breathed the other’s name, “Jean… I didn’t…” Of course Jean would interfere. Of course Jean would protect Armin… “I didn’t want this for you,” He murmured.

Jean only stared up at him with an expression of pain and fear Bert never wanted to see aimed at him, not from Jean. Jean who cared about everyone, even though no one seemed to care about him. Jean, who had called Annie’s name when she first sealed herself away. Who would risk his life for a stranger because it was the right thing to do, who had grown more as a person than most would give him credit for. Jean who was genuinely a decent person, and had done nothing but make the best of his terrible luck time and time again.

Bert was hoping he wouldn’t run into Jean today. Of course, Jean would end up running into him.

 

\---

 

It happened so fast that Jean’s thoughts scattered like marbles. The breath was forced from his lungs, and before he could draw in another, they were full. Beyond the searing pain was another feeling altogether. A familiar sensation… he’d felt it in his dreams a few times. When he dreamt of drowning… was he drowning? He looked down at the blade that impaled him; it didn’t seem real.

Bertholdt was staring down at him, a desperate sadness about him. He was saying something about not wanting something… _what the hell is that about?_ He returned the gaze as best he could through the pain and horror, just… watching the man. Even though he was upset, Jean could tell Bert was a much stronger person than he used to be. Jean could tell Bert had a will of his own, now. Pity it led him to this.

Armin was calling his name. He glanced in his direction, slow and lethargic and… confused as to why the dumbass was just sitting there. Why the fuck wasn’t he doing something? 

 

 

 

“B-bertl,” He rasped, returning to the gaze of his attacker, “I always really liked you. Why are you doing this?”

“Because I have to,” Bertholdt replied softly before pulling his expression back from horror to nothing at all. With his façade firmly back in place he tightened his grip on the blade, and with one sturdy tug, removed it from the other’s body. Jean let out a pained, gurgling noise as he grabbed at Bertholdt’s chest desperately, sucking in as deep a breath as his body would allow between clenched teeth. It hurt more coming back out, it bled more coming back out… suddenly that pressure in his chest erupted into a fit of coughing and wheezing. He rolled onto his stomach and pulled himself into a kneeling position, spluttering and gasping. Every movement, every breath dragged searing pain through his body and made it harder and harder to breathe. He felt dizzy… he felt like he was going to fall into the sky if he so much as shifted his weight wrong.

 

“Annie and Reiner are located in a stronghold beneath Stohess!” Armin shouted, his voice cracked, “That’s what you wanted to hear, isn’t it!?” He asked desperately. Bertholdt backed away from both of them, dropping off the building wordlessly as steam billowed in his wake from his healing wound. Armin gaze followed after his retreating form, _apparently so…_

After he was sure Bert had left, Armin scrambled to Jean’s side, gripping at his shoulders and pulling him upright.

“Jean!” He cried, “Jean… are you alright?”

“You’re smart, you figure it out,” Sarcastic words passed through bloody lips, followed by more coughing. He fought Armin’s arms, he wanted to lie down. A rumbling in the distance alerted them to an approaching titan, and Jean knew they didn’t have time to fuck around.

Armin choked back a sob, hands shaking as they clenched the rough fabric of Jean’s sleeves, “Jean, we—” “I’m going to die.” “N-no, no you’ll be okay. I’ll get a medical officer. Everything will be fine!”

“Armin,” Jean groaned, despite his exhaustion and through laboured breathing, he continued, “You aren’t going to g-get anyone—”

“No, I will, I promise—!” “You’re going to run away from here, from me. Going to inform the Military Police to keep their posts. Tell them where Bert’s headed. It’s _important_.”

He was right, too; he was going to die. And Armin was going to die too if he wasted even another minute here. And… and if Armin didn’t relay the message, no one would. He blinked the tears away from his vision and steadied his hand, breathing deeply. His grip on the other’s shoulders let up, easing into a soft touch. He laid Jean down on his back and put a hand on his chest, “Y…you’re right,” He said quietly, “I’m sorry.”

As he was turning to leave, Jean grabbed his hand as firmly as he could manage, giving him a stern look, “And, don’t you dare. Tell _anybody_. That I died for humanity, Armin, _I died for you_ ,” He slurred, words bubbling out between wet, rasping breaths. He had tears in his eyes, Armin wasn’t sure when that happened, “And you never deserved it.”

Jean released him and he stumbled backwards, speechless.

He didn’t linger, he didn’t look back. He left Jean Kirschtein to die alone, drowning in his own blood, and tears, and _regrets_. What a wretched person he was for that. But he didn’t look back, he didn’t linger, he didn’t hesitate.

When it was certain they were losing the district, he directed all squads to fall back. The wounded were to be left behind.

 

\---

 

“Where’s Jean?”

Mikasa was always prompt with her concerns. The last she’d seen Jean, he was in bad shape. She often worried about him—he pushed himself too much. He wasn’t strong like she was, wasn’t durable like Eren, or smart like Armin. He was just… Jean. She saw his death as a very real possibility… and so when she didn’t see him at Armin’s side on their retreat to Stohess, she feared the worst.

Armin could do little to dissuade her from this fear. He shook his head unceremoniously, and her expression twisted from concern, to pain, to anger, “Armin,” She scowled, “You’ll do better than just shaking your head.” She demanded, “What happened to Jean?”

“Bertholdt killed him.” Armin said, though a quiet, sardonic voice in the back of his head called Bullshit. _You killed him_ , it said.

Mikasa’s scowl deepened into a snarling rage, “Then he dies today as well.”

Armin bit back a small, uncomfortable smile. What a wretched person he was.

**Author's Note:**

> There will be one more chapter following Bert and his attempt to rescue his comrades. From there, I have no idea.
> 
> Please bare in mind this was written before chapter 50 came out.  
> Though, in the fic, Armin pushed rage so hard on Eren that I dont think anything that came up in chapter 50 matters much--I think in this fic, he pushed the idea of mindless rage as the only solution so hard that it is all Eren knows, he never learned of his other abilities, he never learned anything.


End file.
